Intercoursing 101
by Mindy35
Summary: Jack/Liz. Experience is the best teacher.


Title: Intercoursing 101

Author: Mindy

Rating: M, sexy stuff.

Disclaimer: not mine.

For: hamnapkin

Prompt: I'll be good at this, right?

Spoilers: nope.

Pairing: Jack/Liz always

Summary: Experience is the best teacher.

-x-

"Can you remind me how we got here?"

Jack captures her wrist, drawing her closer to the bed. And him, on it. "The point isn't how we got here but that we got here. And since we are here, you need to concentrate on the task at hand."

She climbs onto his lap. "Fucking you?"

"Yes. Exactly," he answers, eyes running over her nakedness. "No man wants to feel like he can't retain the attention of his woman when they are in bed together."

"But I am not your woman," she points out, attempting to ignore the fact that he too is naked. And beneath her. "And you are not my man."

"For the purposes of this," he tells her: "you are. As am I."

"You're my woman?"

"I'm your lover. For tonight at least."

"Hence my original question," she mutters, glancing about his low-lit bedroom. "How and why is this happening?"

"You wanted help," he says simply: "I'm giving you help."

Now her eyes drop, to his lap. "You'll be giving me much more than just _help_, Jack."

He lifts a finger to her lips, silencing her, making her meet his eyes. "You need to stop talking now."

Liz swallows. "Sorry…" She shakes herself, which does some not-so-bad things to his anatomy. "I get chatty when I'm nervous. And/or naked. But particularly when I'm both."

"I know. And I understand." He takes her shoulders in his hands, strokes them once. "But lesson number one -- in bed, talk, unless of course it's the dirty variety, should be kept to a discreet minimum."

"Oh no," she quickly objects, waggling her head: "I'm not doing dirty talk, I wasn't prepared for that. I just want the basics. The rest of it will have to wait for another time."

Jack lifts a brow. "Another time?"

She shrugs. "I'm just saying."

"We've barely even started."

"Right, but we're naked," she says, indicating this fact with a wave of her hand: "We're…without clothes. So there's no going back now. I've seen your stuff, you've seen my stuff."

"I object to that word on both our parts," he remarks, gaze detouring to her breasts.

"And I know you'll be good at this," she continues logically. "You know all about sex and you're really good at bossing me around."

"Well. With that vote of confidence," he says, taking her hand and placing it on his breastbone: "I want you to put your hand here and slowly slide it down my body–"

Liz obeys.

"Slower, Lemon. _Slower_."

She snatches her hand back. "I'm going too fast?"

He smiles slightly. "Try to _relish _it."

"Okay…" She nods, resumes. And when she gets as far down his body as she can, fingers resting on the lowest part of his stomach, she stops. "Now what?"

Jack regards her, simultaneously nonplussed, displeased and exasperated. "You really do need help."

"Well, yeah."

"And you're right," he adds, shifting beneath her: "This is going to take much longer than just one night."

She sighs deeply. "Do you absolutely swear I'm going to get something outta this, Jack?"

"What a preposterous question," he comments, clearly rankled. "You're going to get a wealth of experience, some very raunchy memories for when you're old and grey--"

"Meaning next week?"

"And my guess is, your first good orgasm in years."

Liz purses her lips in thought. "I wouldn't mind one of them. I've heard good things."

He nods encouragingly. "That's the spirit."

"Okay then!" She knits her fingers about his neck, giving him an expectant though cautious smile. "I'm in your hands. Do your worst."

"Lemon…" He releases a sigh, voice slow, serious and absolute: "I will be doing my _best_, not my worst. And in doing my very best, I will be _doing you_ like you've never been done before."

She smirks awkwardly, cheeks turning pink. "I think you should probably call me something else if you're gonna say things like that."

His brows lift. "You want to assume play names for the duration of our intercourse?"

"Is that a thing?"

"Certainly."

She shrugs. "Maybe, I dunno. Just to…depersonalise it a bit."

"Dare I ask what you had in mind?" he murmurs, eyeing her askance.

She thinks, then grins. "How about Stud Muffin?"

Jack looks unimpressed. "I assume you're referring to me?"

"I thought you'd like it."

"How about Lemon Tart?" he counters archly.

She tilts her head. "I am both insulted and a bit hungry now."

Jack wraps his hands around her hips and tugs her body closer, the manoeuvre purposeful and practical. "The suggestion is ludicrous anyhow. Sex is sex. It cannot be depersonalised." When satisfied with her position, he slides his hands to her thighs and rests them there. "No matter what names or oaths are exchanged this is still going to be you and I. It's always going to be me inside you, you touching me, and so forth. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure in the heat of passion one has complete control over one's tongue. Or at least, one shouldn't if one is doing it correctly."

"Now who's depersonalising."

"I beg your pardon?"

"'One' being…you and I?"

Jack holds her uncertain stare with his more certain gaze. "We will become one, Lemon, mark my words."

"Yikes…" she breathes, watching as his hands begin to glide up and down her spread thighs. "I'm not sure I want to become one."

Jack smiles slightly. "Relax. Perhaps you should lie back and just let me take the lead this time."

"Do you really think is a good idea?" she asks him for the fifth time that night. But she doesn't resist him looping his arms around her, turning her to lie back on his big, soft bed.

"Like you said," he says, stretching out beside her: "there's no going back now."

"You said I could reconsider at any time."

"I did say that."

She gulps. "But…?"

Jack sweeps her hair off her shoulder with the back of his hand. "You were just sitting on me buck-naked for a good few minutes while we discussed this."

She blinks up at him. "So?"

"I have an erection now."

"Hm..." Liz watches his hand move to press into the center of her chest, right above her breasts. "And that changes things, does it?"

He nods, eyes glowing. "That, and the fact that you are wet."

She hesitates, bites her lip. "How do you know?"

"I can smell you." His hand begins to inch down her body. "But I can show you further proof if you want me to."

Her eyes flick up to the ceiling as his palm continues to descend. "Jeepers…how did I get into this?"

"You wanted to know about sex," Jack reminds her, eyes still on her face.

Her eyes cut back to his. "Right…I forgot."

"Well…" His mouth curls up in one corner. "This is how we learn about sex."

"By doing it," she says, not a question.

"Precisely," he muses. His roaming hand, having reached her thighs, parts them, strokes them lightly. "What a quick learner you are."

"Couldn't you've just--" she pauses, takes in a breath: "I dunno, given me a book on it or something?"

Jack hooks his elbow under one knee, lifting it, planting her foot on the bedspread. "That would not be nearly as effective. Nor as fun."

"Do I look like I'm having fun?" she says, eyes flickering with doubt.

He smirks. "Don't worry, Lemon Tart, you will."

She snorts at the nicknameification, her doubt disintegrating. "I thought you said no talking, except the dirty kind."

"How right you are," Jack murmurs, shifting in closer. "Let's get down to it."

"Hey…Jack?"

He stalls at her quieter tone, eyes lifting to scan her face. "Hmm?"

She looks up at him, licks her lips before speaking. "I'll be good at this. I'm…gonna be good. Right?"

Jack smiles softly. "Lemon, I have no former experience of what you're like in bed. But I can assure you, by the time I'm done with you, you will be nothing short of spectacular."

She smiles back, then nods. "So tell me what to do."

"Just follow my lead."

"And?"

He leans down, lips nearing hers. "Why don't we start with a kiss?"

_END._


End file.
